


Lavender Hoody

by IAmTheUnsub



Series: Reddie Au [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Dyslexic Author, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Twunk, F/M, Fluff, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Gen, I spell it hoody, M/M, Richie Tozier has zero chill, but it might be hoodie?, coffee shop AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 16:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21448987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmTheUnsub/pseuds/IAmTheUnsub
Summary: An average day at the coffee shop. Richie stares, Eddie studies, Beverly roasts (coffee beans and Richie), Ben is wholesome, Stan is a savage, Mike loves him and Bill just wants to write his novel in peace.Prompt: "A spills their coffee and B leans down to help clean it up, but spills theirs too and makes it worse"
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Beverly Marsh & Richie Tozier, Bill Denbrough & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Series: Reddie Au [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1545535
Comments: 4
Kudos: 235





	Lavender Hoody

**Author's Note:**

> lol it's 5AM and this is my second coffee shop au in two days.   
Author has dyslexia, please let me know of any misspellings so I can fix them.

“You’re staring again, Babe”

Richie jumps, dislodging his chin from where it’s resting on top of his fist. He looks away from the gorgeous guy in the corner and turns to face Bev, who looks much too smug for his liking. He quickly snatches up a rag and starts wiping down the already clean counter. He can feel his cheeks heating up in a tell-tale blush. Bev just laughs at him.

“Shut up”, he mumbles.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, it’s adorable. Hey Ben! Isn’t Richie adorable?” she calls over to where one of their regulars is sitting at a table in the corner. Ben looks up from his sketchbook, where he’s working on what looks like a bunch of straight lines to Richie, but is apparently a house? Wild. Ben smiles warmly at Richie.

“Super adorable, Rich”, he agrees sincerely.

Richie tucks the rag into his apron and reaches up to fix the messy bun on top of his head. Bens easy compliments always throw him for a loop. He could deal with Bev’s good-natured ribbing, but there’s something about Ben’s genuine niceness that Richie just can’t get used to.

“Ben I swear to god I’ll climb you like a tree”, Richie falls back on humour, as usual.

“Thanks Richie. I’ll just take a refill instead if that’s okay?” Ben asks.

“I would do literally anything for you, Ben”, Richie vows, already making Ben a fresh latte.

He tries to draw a heart in the foam, but it looks more like a dick. Richie shrugs and figures they both convey the same message and carries it over to Ben’s table. Ben grins at him again and reaches for his wallet. Richie places the coffee down and takes a step back, shaking his head.

“Nope! No way. This one’s on me, Ben”, he explains.

Ben just takes out a bill and holds it out.

“Oh, that’s really kind of you, Richie. But I don’t want to get you in trouble. Bev says the boss has been on your case recently”, Richie grudgingly realises that Ben is right and huffs out a put-upon sigh.

“Fine, I’ll make you a deal. If I let you pay for your coffee, then you have to ask Bev out”, Ben’s handsome face is immediately right red. It’s actually quite impressive.

“Uh, what? No, Richie, I can’t… I mean, she won’t… It’s rude to ask people out while they’re working, because they feel like they have to be nice to you!”, Ben looks triumphant, but Richie just raises a single eyebrow at him.

“Are we talking about the same Bev? About this tall, red hair, told a customer she was clearly an idiot this morning for ordering a mint hot chocolate”, Richie asks, holding his hand up about three feet below Bev’s actual height.

“Who the hell wants mint hot chocolate?” Ben asks, nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Oh, she was completely justified, I wasn’t about to make that bullshit either. But that’s not the point! Bev goes on lunch in five, so she won’t technically be working. And would you look at that? Your table is the only one with an empty chair”, Richie grins smugly.

Ben looks around the café, about a third of the tables are empty. He looks questioningly back to Richie. Without a word, Richie stands up, walks back to the counter and pulls out a stack of _‘reserved’_ plaques. He walks around the café placing the signs on every single empty table, keeping defiant eye contact with Ben the whole time. He returns to Ben’s table with the swagger of a conquering warlord and holds his hand out. Ben just sighs, defeated, and places a five-dollar bill into it. Richie smirks and walks away.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Benny my boy!”

Richie makes Bev her usual lunch (a BLT on white with the crusts cut off, a bag of barbecue flavoured chips and a sparkling water) and shoos her off to sit with Ben. She smirks at him and goes without argument. As soon as she’s sat down, Richie starts gathering up the _‘reserved’_ signs and puts them back where he belongs.

When Bev comes back from her lunch, Ben walks her to the counter. He looks Richie dead in the eye, drops a fifty in the tip jar, and leaves. Richie doesn’t mention the familiar phone number scrawled in black ink on the back of Ben’s hand. 

* * *

About an hour later, the cute guy still hasn’t left and there’s no line, so Richie is right back to staring at him. Bev looks up from texting Ben and catches him again.

“Richie, sweetie. Just go talk to him!”

“He’s probably not even gay!” Richie argues, shaking his head.

“Him? You don’t think he’s gay?” Bev asks, jerking her head towards the man.

Richie looks again, trying to be subtle. The guy is sitting on one the café’s overstuffed armchairs, cross-legged and thumbing through a large book. He’s spinning a pen between his fingers, his fingernails are painted a glossy black. He’s wearing a lavender hoody with the words _‘NYU GSA’ _and red running shorts.

“…You shouldn’t stereotype, Beverly” Richie starts in a sanctimonious tone, “a lot of straight guys paint their nails now, plus it’s called a gay-_straight_ alliance for a reason!”

“He’s reading queer theory and he’s sitting like a clear homosexual. Everyone knows gay people don’t use furniture right, Richie”, Bev responds coolly.

“Well, you’ve got me there”, Richie allows.

“Plus he’s a total twunk”, a new voice chimes in.

Bev and Richie’s heads snap up to see two customers waiting to order. A tall blonde man with a head of curls much neater than Richie had ever managed to get his to be. He was holding hands with a Mike, another of their regulars.

“Oh hey Mike. How’s it going? Also who’s this. Also, what the fuck is a twunk?” Richie directs the last question to the newcomer, who smiles and offers his hand across the counter.

“Stan, Mike’s better half. And a twunk is a like a twink but buffer. Basically pretty and hairless, but could definitely pin you against a wall if you asked nice enough”, he explains.

“Richie, nice to meet you, Gay Yoda”, Richie shakes his hand, but glances towards the guy again, now picturing being pinned against the wall by him. He clears his throat, trying to force the image from his mind. He looks back to Stan and Mike. “What can I get you guys?”

“I’ll take a blackberry tea, please”, Mike requested his usual, not even glancing at the menu.

“That’s what I love about you, Mikey, you’re so adventurous, always switching things up”, Richie banters, already handing Bev a teacup to make the drink.

“Fuck off, Richie!” Mike protests, but his voice is light and he’s smiling, so Richie knows he isn’t really annoyed.

“Yeah yeah, enjoy your tea, Grandpa. And for you, Yoda?” Richie asks Stan.

“I’ll take an iced caramel latte and a hot chocolate with extra whipped cream”

“Can’t decide between hot or cold, huh?”

“Something like that” Stan answers with a smirk.

Richie makes the hot chocolate and lets Bev take care of the latte, but he writes ‘Gay Yoda’ on the cups in his neatest handwriting.

When he passes the drinks over, Mike and Stan playfully argue over who gets to pay. Stan whips out cash before Mike manages to swipe his credit card. He throws too much money across the counter and walks away calling “keep the change!” behind him. Mike just shrugs, thanks them and follows his boyfriend. Richie looks back to Bev.

“He seems nice”, he comments.

“Yeah, Mike seems happ- oh my god!”, Bev exclaims.

“What!? What’s wrong? Is there a spider in my hair again?” Richie frantically starts shaking his hair out, but Bev just laughs and grabs him by the shoulders. She spins him around to face the seating area again. He’s horrified to see Mike and Stan sitting with the twunk. Stan passes him the hot chocolate, then looks up and waves at Richie. The twunk follows his gaze and gives Richie a polite wave.

Richie squeaks and ducks down behind the counter. 

* * *

About three hours later, it’s almost closing time. The only customers left in the store are the twunk and Richie’s roommate, Bill.

Richie grabs a freshly-baked peach danish from his tray, slides it onto a plate and carries it towards Bill along with two fresh cappuccinos. He drops the plate onto his table with a clatter, but Bill doesn’t even flinch, fingers still flying over the keyboard of his laptop. Richie just sits down opposite him and cuts the pastry in half.

“C’mon Billy. You gotta eat and I need a taste tester!” he encourages his friend.

Bill, still not looking away from his laptop, snatches up half of the danish and takes a huge bite. He chews, swallows, then finally looks at Richie.

“S’good”, he grunts, “Could use some icing sugar on top though.”

“You would say that, you survive off of sugar and coffee”, Richie scoffs.

“Yeah, you give me those things for free. Why would I pay for something else?” Bill asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Maybe because you’ll need to be rolled to your first book signing?” Richie jabs, but he sounds distracted.

Bill looks up and realises that Richie isn’t even looking at him, instead staring over his left shoulder. Bill glances behind him and sees a guy in a purple hoody reading a queer theory textbook and taking notes. He turns back to Richie, grinning. 

“Are you using me to spy on a hot guy?” he asks, incredulous.

“You literally cannot judge me for anything I ever do. You’re writing a novel in the middle of a coffee shop, you hipster asshole” Richie hisses, ducking his head down behind Bills laptop screen. 

Bills laughs uproariously. It takes him a good few minutes to calm down, while Richie just sinks lower into his seat, clutching his coffee cup to his chest. Finally, Bill wipes a tear from under his eye and falls quiet.

“You finished?” Richie asks, feigning annoyance.

“Yup, just about”, Bill agrees.

“Fuck you, man. See how you feel when I stop giving you free baked goods” Richie grumbles.

“Seriously though, since when are you nervous about talking to guys? I’ve seen you hit on frat guys with no regard for your own safety”, Bill tries to reason with him.

“Well yeah, but that’s different. I’m usually drunk at tho-”

“FUCK!” Richie is interrupted by the outburst.

Bill and Richie both turn towards the voice to see the twunk, looking genuinely panicked. His most recent hot chocolate refill (he’d had eight, not that Richie had been counting. Or that he’d managed to take any of his orders. He’d escaped into the back room and left Bev to serve the guy every time he saw him coming up to the counter) was tipped onto its side and quickly spreading all over his notes.

“Oh shit!”, Richie immediately sprang into action, leaping from his seat and jogging towards the guy. He pulled his rag out from where he’d stashed in in his apron earlier and started dabbing at the guys’ notes.

Unfortunately, Richie, being an idiot, had forgotten that he still had a coffee in his other hand. As soon as he bent over the table, his mostly full cappuccino spilled out of his cup and joined the mess. Richie froze, mortified. He could hear Bill laughing again but he ignored that and kept dabbing with the now-soaked rag.

“Shit! Shit, shit, shit!” the twunk spat.

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to-”, Richie cuts himself off as the guy pulls his hoody off and tosses it on top of the mess, watching the lavender colour slowly turn brown. Richie tries (and fails) not to look at the guys’ arms. Now that they aren’t covered, he can definitely vouch for Stan’s assessment of the guy. He was all wiry muscle packed under smooth, tanned skin.

“I really liked that hoody”, the guy mumbles sadly to himself. The defeated little voice is like a punch to Richie’s gut.

“I am so, _so _sorry. Hang on, let me make it up to you!”, Richie offers.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” the twunk objects, but Richie is already gone, launching himself over the counter, past Bev and her waggling eyebrows and running into the back room. He grabs another peach danish, still warm, and a large ziploc bag. He moves to leave the back room when something catches his eye. He considers the container of icing sugar beside the mixer for a second before shaking a generous dusting over the top. He carries the treat back over to the guy, who has now moved to a clean table to the left of the soaked one. He places the danish down in front of him, then holds up the bag.

“I figured this might be a good idea, you know, to keep the rest of your stuff clean” Richie explains bashfully.

“Thanks…”, the guy trails off, looking at Richie expectantly. Richie stays silent, not sure what he’s expecting.

“He wants your name, you idiot!”, Bev calls from behind the counter.

“Oh! I’m Richie, Richard… Tozier. Just Richie actually. Hi”, Richie does his best to tune out Bev and Bill laughing at him.

“Hi. I’m Eddie”, the guy introduces himself.

“Eddie, hi”, Richie repeats, slightly breathless.

“Hi” Eddie replies, a little perplexed.

“Hi!” Bill joins in.

Bev loses her shit again from behind the counter, laughing so hard that she has to hold on to the counter to keep herself upright. Richie ignores her, his eyes landing on the soiled lavender hoody.

“Hey… listen. I live in the dorms right near here. Barren Hall? You know it?” Richie asks, continuing when Eddie nods, “the laundry room is usually empty at this time of night, and we close in like ten minutes anyway, if you want to come back and get that in a washer before it dries.”

Eddie looks hesitant.

“I live with Bill over there actually, so he can vouch that I’m not, like, a serial killer or anything”, Richie gestures to Bill, who’s stuffed the other half of his own danish in his mouth. 

“It’s true, I’ve only ever seen him kill one person, and he deserved it!” Bill exclaims through a mouthful of pastry.

“Bill!” Richie hollers.

“What, it’s a joke! I promise he won’t kill you… and if he does, then I’ll personally ensure he’s brought to justice”, Bill continues.

“I swear to god, you’re on thin fucking ice, Bill!” Richie moans, head dropping into his hands in embarrassment. He looks up again when he hears an unfamiliar laugh. It’s Eddie, Eddie’s laughing. Laughter is a good sign. Eddie meets his gaze, considering him for a second, then nods.

“Yeah, you know what, that’s really nice of you to offer, man. Thanks”, Eddie agrees.

“Awesome! I’ll go grab my keys and my jacket and I’ll be right back”

Richie runs away and vaults over the counter again. He grabs his leather jacket, sheds his apron and fishes out a to-go box for Eddie’s danish. He kisses the side of Bev’s head on his way to the front door, where Eddie is waiting, gingerly holding his soiled hoody and tucking the Ziploc bag full of brown-soaked notes into a backpack. Richie grabs the door and holds it open for him.

“Oh yeah, that’s fine, I’ll just clean up all this mess and close the shop by myself then?” Bev protests loudly.

“Bill can help you, plus you owe me for finally getting Ben to nut up and ask you out!” Richie calls back over his shoulder.

“…Touché”, Bev agrees.

Richie leads Eddie out onto the street, frowning when the other man immediately shivers in the chilled air. He shrugs his leather jacket off and drapes it over Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, no Richie, I’ll be fine, honestly. You need this!” Eddie protests, starting to take the jacket off. Richie reaches out and stops him.

“Don’t worry about it, Eds. I’ve been working with hot coffee all day, the cold air is refreshing”, he placates the other man.

“Are you sure?” Eddie asks.

“Completely sure”, Richie reassures him, reaching out and taking the hoody and backpack so Eddie can put the jacket on properly.

Eddie slides his arms inside the sleeves and zips it up. Richie tries not to focus on how Eddie fills it out so much better than he ever has. He shakes his head and shoulders the backpack when Eddie reaches out to take his stuff back. 

“Nope, it’s half my fault so the least I can do is help carry the burden. C’mon, we’re two blocks this way”, Richie starts walking.

Eddie brushes his nose against the collar of the jacket, inhaling the scent of tobacco and coffee with a soft smile, then follows him. 


End file.
